


One Night Only

by EleanorHugo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28470555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleanorHugo/pseuds/EleanorHugo
Summary: “I had company,” Brienne blurts. “Last night. But it was a one-time thing, unlikely to happen again."
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 20
Kudos: 271
Collections: JB Festive Festival Exchange 2020





	One Night Only

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmpressM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressM/gifts).



> Squeeking in right at the finish line of 2020!!! 
> 
> This fic is for EmpressM, who gave me so much wiggle room in terms of prompts and I still, somehow, found myself posting at the last minute. 
> 
> I know nothing about law or law school so if you have noticed any issues, please ignore them!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fic! I started about three others before this one so if anyone sees any more one-shots from me after this, I owe all those to EmpressM.

She wakes to the smell of sweat and rain. Daylight peaks through the open window and illuminates the room in stark, grey reality. 

Gone are the soft, romantic hues of golden skin kissed by the moonlight. 

Her bed is empty but the warmth of another still lingers. Her head pumping, her heart in her throat, Brienne stays as still as a corpse. She feels close to death when a buzzing from her bedside table jerks her back to life.

Running her tongue over cracked lips, promising herself that she will never drink again, she sees a text waiting for her. Absurdly, her stomach drops and flips. 

_Jaime: Sorry for dining and dashing. The devil rang. Thanks for the fun night. See you around campus._

Brienne didn’t think it was possible to get any hotter than she already was, but the heat rising up her skin proved otherwise. 

The Devil. That was what Jaime called his father, Tywin. Her nerves twisted as she tried to make sense of everything. She wishes he hadn’t left so suddenly but the thought of waking up to him at her side was almost too much for her to bear. 

Had he really gotten a call or had he felt the same as she did? 

Did he not want to talk to her face to face?

Did he regret it? Did she? 

Her mind swims with insecurities, intercut with hazy memories of Jaime, Jaime Jaime.

She thinks of the first time she saw Jaime Lannister. In their Intro to Law course three years prior. In a sea of pressed blazers and crisp button-ups, his golden curls and strong jaw stood out so prominently that all eyes seemed to drift his way. He was a modern-day Warrior and everyone knew it. Worst of all, he knew it, too.

The first time they spoke was many months later when he entered the off-campus bookshop where she worked. She had to inform him that she was also a law student and that the two had actually had a class together. 

She had hated him for such a long time during law school. He was handsome, charming, and incredibly witty. Everyone loved him, he drew a crowd wherever he went. Worst of all was their nonstop debates in their classes. What would always ensue was a heated debate that left her blood boiling and him looking her up and down, as if seeing her for the first time. 

She had put Jaime Lannister out of her mind until she bumped into him again that summer while interning in King’s Landing. Brienne had turned down many internship offers to spend her summer working at a small nonprofit that worked on human rights cases. 

“Ah,” his smooth, familiar voice was one she would probably hear long after death. “Brienne Tarth. What a surprise. I had no idea you would be in the capital.”

He had seemed almost happy to see her. Had he been drinking? Did he forget that they fought constantly last semester?

The entire night had been a whirlwind from that point on. As the company intern, Brienne was mostly relegated to the background, trying to rub shoulders and network with as many counselors as she could. But Jaime. He had managed to turn the night around. They talked of school, classes, their various internships. 

Before long, she was four glasses of wine warmer and walking the hot streets of King’s Landing with Jaime by her side. She had learned all about his family, his brother, the tragic loss of his mother. She, too, had recounted her life on Tarth, the loss of her mother and siblings. 

When he pulled her into a by-the-slice pizzeria, she realized they were near her apartment. She led the way as they ate. He cracked a joke about the cliche of a poor law student living in the slums. She gave a mock laugh in return, as if they were friends and this sort of banter happened often.

She invited him up. She would ruminate on the look he gives her for a long time after. 

She will remember the lightness she felt, moving about her apartment to turn on a few lights. Jaime Lannister was so different than she had remembered. It felt nice to talk with him. 

He would kiss her softly fifteen minutes later. When he pulled back, she would swallow his apologies with her own kiss. 

Everything was a blur of sensations and overwhelming emotions. When she woke that morning, he was gone. 

* * *

Brienne tries very hard not to think of Jaime Lannister the following day. It takes her a while to find the courage to respond to his text, with each notification making her jump.

She calls Margarey to try and postpone their long-standing brunch but the plan backfires when Margarey shows up at her apartment instead. 

“You barely have any time for me as it is,” the petite brunette complains, storming her way into the apartment. “I won’t have this be the start of the end.”

Brienne watches her helplessly, as Margarey grumbles about the state of her neighborhood. When her doe eyes fall onto the pizza plates and napkins, she turns to Brienne with a lifted brow. 

“I had company,” Brienne blurts. “Last night.”

Margaery gasps, almost affronted. “What? With who? A man? And your first instinct wasn’t to immediately run to your best friend with the details the very next day?!”

If Brienne wasn’t so mortified, she would laugh. Margaery sounded so genuinely offended. 

Brienne sits opposite of her friend with a heavy sigh. “Yes, a man. It was really great. Nice.” she clears her throat. “But it was a one-time thing, unlikely to happen again.”

Margaery sits down quickly, waving her hand in the air. “Bri, darling, these things happen. Was it one of the lawyers from your fundraiser? Anyone I might know?”

Brienne swallows, averting her gaze. “It was another lawyer. And...you perhaps know them.”

Another gasp, verging on squeal. “That means I _DO_ know them!”

Brienne shakes her head. “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Oh stop,” Margarey admonishes. “Now, tell me who so we can get to the juicy bits!”

Brienne blushes. Margaery was one of her oldest and dearest friends. She was responsible for getting Brienne out of her shell in undergrad, picking up her self esteem from where nanny Roelle had left it on the floor, covered in dirt. 

“It was Jaime Lannister,” she admits quietly.

Margaery is dead silent now. She pulls off the lid of her styrofoam coffee mug and shakes a tiny sugar packet into the steamy liquid. “You mean, the same Jaime Lannister you hate? The one who made your life miserable for the past few years?”

Brienne cringes. The two Jaime’s who lived in her head suddenly appeared before her. “Yes.”

“And he was the one you met up with last night?”

Brienne nods. “He is also interning in the city.” She neglects to mention that it is at a big law firm that Brienne is an outspoken critic of. 

Margaery nods her head contemplatively. She sips her coffee and looks Brienne over. “Were you tanked? How did this happen?”

Brienne sighs, dragging a hand through her hair. She recounted the events to her friend. How he was funny and charming and so attentive that it could have been a completely different person. She got lost in the memory of their long walk, their nonstop discussion, the pizza, and wine. 

“Are you sure that was Jaime Lannister?”

Brienne smiles. “Quite. However, as I already mentioned, it is highly unlikely to happen again. We were two people who happened to be in the same place with free alcohol. The whole thing screamed one-night stand.”

Margaery tsks. “Well, how was he?”

Brienne couldn't help the giggle that bubbled from her throat.

* * *

Long after Margarey had left, Brienne thought of her friend's initial reaction. It was true, she truly hated Jaime Lannister. 

He constantly belittled her opinions in class, got her kicked off a mock debate assignment, and spent the first few months calling her Brian. He was everything Brienne thought of when she imagined a wealthy child in higher education. He didn’t care about helping people, she had thought. She had assumed he would be a consigliere for his family, like Tom Hagen from _The Godfather_. 

But last night.

Last night he was funny and kind and painted a completely different picture of himself. 

When she finally responded to his text, many hours later, he would only reply with a winky emoji.

* * *

She runs into him again, a few weeks later, while they were both in court. She was taking notes for Mr. Seaworth and she spotted Jaime with a few other sharks down the hall. He was bespoke from his head to his toes, looking every bit the confident lawyer she only pretended to be.

Her heart pumps at the sight of him. She blushes at the memory of his body on hers, his breath on her throat, his fingers moving delicately inside of her. 

Her heart stops completely when he glances her way, locks eyes with her. She can hear him. _“Look at me,”_ he had whispered that night. _“Open your eyes. I want to see your face when I make you come.”_

He turns away.

Her stomach drops.

_What were you expecting? Look at him and look at you._

A few minutes later, her phone buzzes. It is a series of emojis. A winky face, an eggplant, a peach, and another winky face.

She decides to ignore them and focus on her actual job.

* * *

The rest of her day passes in a blur. She spent most of the day with Davos Seaworth doing uneventful, redundant work that could, in all honesty, be done by a paralegal. But Brienne didn’t mind the distraction. 

By the time she got home, her bones ached with the need for a strong cup of tea and a hot shower. Perhaps she’ll have some time to curl up and read a book for enjoyment, something she hadn’t been able to do since starting university. 

Her old apartment had no central air, so she cracks a few windows, relishing in the cool summer breeze that wafts in. Margaery hated her building, her neighborhood, and constantly tried getting her friend to live in a Tyrell hotel. But Brienne had refused. She loved living independently, even if she could only afford a place in Flea Bottom. 

Just as she was getting ready to heat up dinner, there was a persistent knock on her door. 

“What are you doing here?”

Jaime shrugs, slipping his cell phone into the breast pocket of his blazer. He was still in his suit from court earlier. He glances up at her with a mischievous smile. “You didn’t answer my very romantic text. Wanted to do a wellness check, make sure everything was okay.”

Her throat suddenly dry, she desperately wished she was not in plaid pajama shorts and a t-shirt that said Oldtown Law. The incongruity of their appearances makes her hot with embarrassment. 

“Well, as you can see, I am fine,” she sniffs, unsure of what to say. Why had words come so easily to her before? Why was she so lost, right now?

When she flicks her gaze his way, his smile is knowing. He can tell she is nervous. 

_Like you were hiding it so well, idiot?_

“Are you going to invite me in? Or did I risk getting stabbed for nothing?”

Already used to the digs about her neighborhood, Brienne rolls her eyes, but steps aside to let him in. 

“I had forgotten how big your place was,” he remarks, looking around at the brick walls and high ceilings. 

It is Brienne’s turn to shrug. “I suppose that's the benefit of living in Flea Bottom. Not a lot of competition like Visenya Hill.”

He looks around but says nothing. 

Brienne crosses her arms, unsure of what to say now. She was always careful with her words, always choosing them carefully, always afraid of saying the wrong thing.

So lost in her own anxious thoughts, she didn't realize he was moving her way. The smile he wore when entering was gone. His eyes were dark and thoughtful, searching her face like he was looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. 

_What was happening?_

“If you want me to go,” he says, his voice low and full of gravel. "I can." He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Just say the word and I’ll be gone.” His gaze was piercing and she couldn’t look away, even if she wanted to. 

It was suddenly so very hot in her apartment. The muggy summer air did nothing but electrify her all the more. “Don’t go,” she finally whispers.

In a matter of seconds, his hand was behind her head and he was pulling her towards him with crushing force. Their lips meet in a bruising kiss. Her body was flush against his, her hands gripping his shoulders to steady herself. 

His hand came to cup her face, deepening the kiss and Brienne found herself moaning into his mouth. He was too hot, she decides and starts to push his jacket off of his shoulders. 

They are a flurry of movement. Jaime works with her to get his jacket off, while simultaneously kicking off his shoes. The second his jacket hits the floor, he is using both hands to pull her lips back to his. 

Her hands were everywhere, on his chest, his shoulders, in his hair. His kisses were intoxicating and when he chuckles into her mouth, as they dance their way to her bedroom, she was sure she had died and gone to heaven. 

As she shoves his back into the door of her bedroom, he reaches down and grabs a handful of her backside, causing her to squeak in surprise. 

Another small chuckle, low in his throat, as he squeezes her ass and nips at her earlobe. She throws her head back and moans at the new sensations. “You have really great legs,” he mutters, nipping and biting at the tender skin on her throat. “But this ass is incredible.”

She knew he couldn’t be telling the truth but she was too turned on to care. As his hands explored her backside, her fingers did a poor job of undoing buttons. He was squeezing and she couldn’t help the moans and mewls that escaped her lips. 

Jaime pulls back, kissing her quickly before taking her hand and pulling her into the room to the bed. She falls onto the mattress and watches as he starts undressing. The lights were off but the window was open and she could only make out a silhouette of his frame. Her cunt throbbed just watching him. 

He places his wallet on the bedside table, Brienne knows for easier access later. Kneeling before her on the edge of the bed, he kisses a trail from her knees to the inside of her thighs, his hands smoothing along the outside of her legs. Brienne throws her head back, a fire burning low in her belly. 

Sucking at the tender flesh of her thighs, he runs the pad of his thumb over her core, the fabric of her bottoms offering friction against her already swollen clit. Hooking his hands into the band of her bottoms, he pulls both panties and pajamas off and tosses them across the room. 

Brienne shifts to a half seated position, pulling her shirt off and discarding it along with her other clothes. Her skin was on fire and the breeze that filtered through the window left her nipples achingly pert. 

Jaime crawls up over her body, capturing her lips in an earth-shattering kiss. She falls back into the mattress, twisting her fingers into his hair and pulling him down with her. He settles into the opening over her legs, his hand wandering farther and father.

His lips trail over her jaw, his teeth nipping and dragging across her skin, until he finds a spot on her neck that causes a low moan to ripple out and he starts to suck. Brienne cries out, her own hand sliding along his strong muscled back.

As his hands move lower, so do his lips. He peppers her open skin with kisses before taking her nipple into his mouth and licking her slowly. Sucking, biting, groaning. Brienne pushes her chest into his mouth as his two of his fingers slide through her folds. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Your so fucking wet for me, Brienne.”

He switches his attention to her other breast, as he lazily strokes her opening before sliding a finger deep inside of her. Her head lolls back as a low moan escapes her lips. It isn’t long before another finger joins the first. She gasps and he chuckles. He releases her breast and starts slow, shallow movements inside of her, his forehead coming to rest on hers. 

“Jaime,” she moans softly, her hands fisted into the sheets of the beds. 

His fingers begin to pump faster, dragging the very breath from her lungs, and he places the pad of his thumb on her clit. Her hips jump and he captures her surprised squeak with his mouth. He kisses her dizzy and as he moves faster, her hips begin to move of their own accord. Matching his thrusts. 

Her mind was blank and her thighs were quivering. Jaime sits up on his knees, looking down on her while continuing his punishing ministrations. Her hips were bucking wildly against his hand, needing this, this...this release. His left hand came to her waist, holding her steady as he pushed harder with his right, pumping faster. 

“Come one, Blue,” he says softly. “Open your eyes for me, sweetling. I want to look at you.”

Her eyes open, she hadn’t remembered closing them, as his left hand came back to her thigh, spreading her wider. Brienne cries out, afraid she might blackout from the pleasure. 

“Jaime,” she cries. “Please -” Her toes are curled so tight and her hips thrash about. The coil inside of her so tight, so tight, so close. 

Arching her back, the orgasm that rips from her throat is so primal, she is sure all of Flea Bottom hears her. By the time she floats back down, Jaime is still pumping slowly. The small smile that is on his face as he slowly pulls his hands out of her is so smug, she almost wants to smack him. 

Her limbs jelly, he leans over her and kisses her slowly, deeply. When he pulls back to grab a condom from his wallet, she hazily realizes that she should have done something for him. 

Jaime positions himself between the vee of her legs, his weight resting on his elbows beside her head. He looks her deep in the eyes as he slides into her. Brienne couldn’t help the small gasp as he entered her. She had forgotten the feel of him, the way he could steal her breath away.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head moving to the crook of her neck. “Feels so fucking good.”

Brienne wraps her arms around his shoulders, digging her fingers into the slick flesh. He begins to move faster, panting into her skin. 

She raises her hips, wrapping her long legs around his back, allowing him to slide even further inside of her. 

Brienne gasps and he curses slowly. Rolling his hips, his pace starts to pick back up, stretching her, claiming her. 

She rakes her fingers down his shoulders and back, panting and mewling. The thickness of him drags along her walls, the pressure building back up inside of her.

Her legs wrap higher on his back as he pumps faster, fucking her for all she was worth. The bedframe pounded against the wall, rattling with each punishing thrust. Jaime suddenly takes both legs and moves them over his shoulders, so that he is so deeply inside of her that Brienne isn't sure where she stops and he begins. 

She cries out and he moves slower, looking down at her, his blond curls damp on his forehead. “Okay?” he asks.

She nods, her teeth biting her bottom lip, adjusting to the feel of him. He was so, so deep inside of her. He begins to move, slower, steadier. Building again. His cock hitting something deep in her core and she groans. “Oh, god. Oh, fuck.”

Brienne could hear him, but couldn’t make out the words. Her walls shook, her insides clenching. The momentum was building again and Jaime could tell. He began to thrust faster, the bed rattling underneath them. She arches her back, her eyes fluttering close, as a second orgasm is ripped from her. 

His hips come to a halt, as he comes inside of her with a long groan.

Her legs fell to the bed, as she fights to catch her breath. Her body was soaked in sweat, both his and hers. Her mind was gloriously blank, as he discarded the condom in her bedside trash bin.

He sinks into the sweat-soaked mattress beside her, staring up at the ceiling. The room had absolutely no air circulation and the smell of sex lingers in the air. She waits, waiting for the shoe to drop. For him to pat her on the back, thank her for the shag, and leave her apartment once more.

Instead, he stays.

* * *

What happens next is something Brienne could have never fathomed. She starts to see him. A lot. He comes over to her apartment often, bringing beer and wine and a movie. 

He fucks her relentlessly. 

In her kitchen, he enters her from behind, bending her over the table and squeezing her hips and ass hard enough to leave bruises. 

In the bathroom shower is where he teaches her to go down on him. He holds the wall and her hair for dear life as she sucks and nips the soul out of him. Brienne loves nothing more than grabbing hold of his ass cheeks and taking him into her mouth to the hilt. The groans and curses that reverberate off the tiles is something she wishes she could record and listen to on a rainy day.

They go to summer markets, where he pinches her ass and mutters into her ear how her jean-clad backside drives him wild. 

They watch movies on law and critique the plot, the actors, the scenes. 

As the summer comes to a close, and they start to make plans for returning to Old Town, her stomach twists. Her Jaime. This sun-soaked, golden man who was funny and charming and had so many of the same interests as her.

She couldn’t possibly go back to the way it was before. 

But neither of them had made any commitments. He promised her nothing, so she truly expected nothing. She was so used to disappointment that his eventual departure felt inevitable. 

One night, as they lie in bed, he stares up at the ceiling. He is leaving King’s Landing a week sooner than she will be. He is going to spend two weeks with his family before returning to Old Town. 

He leaves tomorrow. 

She wonders if this is goodbye.

“I could really go for a cold beer,” is what he says, instead.

They both redress. Jaime in his boxer briefs and undershirt, her in a new pajama set, and head to her kitchen. 

When she enters the kitchen after exiting the bathroom, he is already chugging a light seltzer drink that Margarey loved to have on hand.

“You look thoroughly shagged, Tarth,” he says with a cheeky grin, his lips wet with drink.

Absurdly, she blushes.

_He was just inside of you, Brienne. Get it together!_

She reaches into the fridge and pulls her own drink out, taking small sips, her eyes moving anywhere but towards him. 

“You know,” he starts, his voicing sounding louder than it ought, due to the stillness of her apartment. “I never thought this, you and I would happen. Back in school. I don’t know. This feels surreal.”

Her heart sinks. 

Her throat closes and a lump starts to form.

_This is it._

She takes a large gulp of her fizzy drink, unsure of what to do with herself as he tells her all the reasons he regretted fucking her.

_You gave it up so easily, too._

She hated herself so deeply at this moment.

“I agree,” she manages to croak. 

She hears him chuckle beside her. “Our last year should be interesting,” he says through a gulp.

Brienne nods. How will she face him, after this? How will she see him day after day after day? After the lazy mornings and busy nights. 

“Good thing I don’t have roommates. Or neighbors. That way we won’t run the risk of the cops getting called while you scream my name.”

She jerks her head up. “It was one time!” she huffs, forgetting herself for a moment. Not registering the words he had just said. The situation he was implying. “Wait, what?”

His brows were drawn together in confusion. “What? I hope you don’t think I’m going to fuck you while Margaery Tyrell sits in another room, probably brewing potions against me or something.”

Brienne is dumbfounded. 

“You, uh, you want to-to keep - doing, this?” she stutters. “When we get back to Old Town?”

His face was cool, his mouth a grim line. “Well, I had assumed,” his voice trails off, a slight edge in his tone.

Her mind was spinning. He hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t made plans. This was the first time she was hearing of this. She had so many questions. Why me? Why now? What changed? Instead, what came spewing out was: “But why?”

His eyes snap to hers, a glint of hurt before it was replaced by anger. “Why?” he repeats with a huff. “Why? I thought - this was. I didn’t think,” he chuckles bitterly, picking at some random papers that were on the counter. “I guess it is true what they say about assumptions.”

He turns away from her to head back into her room. She follows, dazed. “This was just a summer fling to you? I respect that,” he grunts while yanking up his pants with alarming force. “Just wished you had said something sooner.”

He moves about her room, picking clothes off the floor without so much as a backward glance at her. 

“That’s not it at all!” she protests. “I just - you never said anything, either!” 

_Deflecting. Nice one, Tarth._

“I didn’t know how!” he bellows. “You hated me in law school. Everyone you hung out with did. I’m not deaf. I can hear the things they say. About how Daddy’s money bought my way into law school.”

Her mind was whirling. Did she suddenly fall into another dimension? Had she misread everything? Had she always assumed the worst about him? 

Her throat was suddenly tight again, except this time for a completely different reason. “I thought - I thought you hated me,” she whispers, sitting on the edge of her bed to watch him. 

“Why would I hate you? You’re one of the best litigators I’ve ever met. You are so good and thoughtful. Literally, Atticus Finch came to life. Except as a woman with an amazing ass. You are incredible, Brienne. Truly.”

His words were soft, his tone sincere. 

She was so overwhelmed she felt her lungs would burst. 

He sits by her on the bed, taking her hand in his. “Brienne, I don’t want to end things. I want you in my life, in whatever capacity. If that’s just friendship, then...then I am fine with that. I can be fine with that. But I can’t stop seeing you.”

Brienne looks up at him, truly looks at him. He had opened himself up to her. He was never evil, never a saint, he was just Jaime. She leaned in and captured his mouth with her own. “Then let's not end things.” 

She kisses him softly, tentatively, adjusting to this new normal. This reality that existed outside her doubts and insecurities. That said she was wanted and she could give affection and have it returned. 

“Tell me more about this secluded house of yours,” she mutters into his mouth. He laughs, pulling her flush against him to deepen their kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it! Also, Jaime is totally an ass man in my opinion. #ISaidWhatISaid


End file.
